The 50 best movie villains of all time

By David Fear, Joshua Rothkopf and Keith UhlichPosted: Sunday October 23 2011

Do we love our scoundrels more than our saints? Certainly at this time of year, with Halloween just around the corner, we do. Then again, this collection of baddies boasts a stunning eight Oscar victories (and a couple more if you allow for special-effects wins). In considering the worst of the worst, Time Out New York's Team Film was careful to sift out contenders who were merely antiheroes: Taxi Driver's Travis Bickle, for example, is too well-intentioned. Instead, we went for true terribleness. Whatever you do, just keep telling yourself: It's only a list, it's only a list. And if we forgot your favorite heel, get mean with us in the comments.

50–41

40–31

30–21

20–11

10–1

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Dean Wormer, National Lampoon's Animal House (1978)

"The time has come for someone to put his foot down—and that foot is me," John Vernon's dastardly dean declares. This nincompoop head of Faber College took impotent authority figures to a new level, making him the ideal foil for the Deltas. He exemplifies gross-out comedy's golden rule: The more smug you are, the more likely you'll be vomited upon.—David Fear

Cobra Kai Sensei, The Karate Kid (1984)

Fine, so he might not be all the way up there in the pantheon of evil, but this character definitely haunted our nightmares. Mercy and honor are mere playthings to him, as he firmly tells Daniel-san's opponent to "sweep the leg." Actor Martin Kove's squashed features add unsavoriness.—Joshua Rothkopf

Roy Batty, Blade Runner (1982)

The bleached-blond replicant of Ridley Scott's milestone sci-fi thriller is nearly unstoppable—poking out eyeballs, head-butting walls and reducing Harrison Ford's hard-boiled cop to a quivering, broken-fingered mess. But there's more to this bad guy than seething menace; the great Rutger Hauer invests him with a wide-eyed soulfulness that ultimately breaks your heart.—Keith Uhlich

Asami Yamazaki, Audition (1999)

Everyone knows actors are crazy, but our hero can't have expected this level of limb-slicing extremity. To be fair, he's holding a fake casting call just to meet chicks—a move that would infuriate anyone. But after deceptively meek Asami (Eihi Shiina) shows up, this is one player who's about to get a forcible re-edit.—Joshua Rothkopf

Hank Quinlan, Touch of Evil (1958)

Though he'd eventually resemble a mountain with a tiny head on top, Orson Welles actually added belly padding and pounds of makeup to play the corrupt cop of his noir classic, a lawman with no qualms about planting evidence, wandering out of his jurisdiction and even raising his cane on occasion.—Joshua Rothkopf

Tommy DeVito, Goodfellas (1990)

Joe Pesci took home Oscar gold for his firecracker portrayal of a short-tempered gangster in Martin Scorsese's thrilling Mafia drama. The character always wants to be the center of attention, but it's what he does when all eyes are on him—those uncomfortably drawn out am-I-fucking-with-you-or-not? pauses—that assures his place in the scoundrels' pantheon.—Keith Uhlich

Lord Voldemort, The Harry Potter movies (2005–11)

From his serpentine face (the missing nose is a perfect touch) to the bone-chilling way he hisses his arch-nemesis's name—"Haaa-ryyy Pahhh-ter!"—Ralph Fiennes turned J.K. Rowling's fallen wizard into the personification of that old black magic. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named doesn't really need a moniker; he simply answers to evil.—David Fear

Baby Jane Hudson, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)

Bette Davis throws subtlety to the wind in the flamboyant title role of this aging-starlet standard. Her psycho former child actor sticks in your mind not only for her memorably schizoid outbursts (parakeets, beware), but for the ferocious way Davis battles costar and real-life archenemy Joan Crawford for the spotlight.—Keith Uhlich

Colonel Kurtz, Apocalypse Now (1979)

Lording over a compound of Montagnard mercenaries like some demented slaveowner, Brando's bald, batshit colonel one-upped Joseph Conrad's conception of Kurtz as a mere colonialist run amok; you believe this guy actually possesses a heart of darkness. Whether reading T.S. Eliot aloud or decapitating soldiers, this military madman truly communicates the horror of Vietnam.—David Fear

Lars Thorwald, Rear Window (1954)

He sits in his darkened apartment, smoking a cigarette. Outside in the courtyard, a neighbor wails about her dead dog. And across the way, two more observers know that Lars (an unusually subtle Raymond Burr) is up to far more than offing pets. Alfred Hitchcock's brilliant thriller simply wouldn't work without a stone-cold killer.—Joshua Rothkopf

Khan, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

Revenge is a dish best served cold (old Klingon proverb), and who better to mete it out than Ricardo Montalban's genetically engineered, Melville-quoting big baddie? The actor's devil-may-care stylings were just the kick in the pants Gene Roddenberry's space-opera franchise needed. Say it in your best Shatner: Khaaaaaaaaaannnnnn!—Keith Uhlich

Mrs. Danvers, Rebecca (1940)

The original psychobiddy, Judith Anderson's housekeeper starts out undermining her widowed master's new wife, played by Joan Fontaine; soon, she's breaking her down psychologically and not-so-subtly prodding the lady of the house toward open windows. Her eerie impassivity hides a questionable fixation with her late mistress—one that literally becomes a burning obsession.—David Fear

Hans Landa, Inglourious Basterds (2009)

There are screen Nazis, and then there's Christoph Waltz's smooth-talking, calabash-smoking "Jew Hunter" from Quentin Tarantino's WWII epic. An inventive tweak on the stern movie caricatures of SS officers, Landa uses his sunny disposition as a smoke screen; the way he toys with a French farmer while slowly tightening the noose is both funny and absolutely chilling.—David Fear

Nurse Ratched, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975)

Most mental-institution employees help their patients get better; this fascist in a starched white uniform keeps her pet "cuckoos" crazy and under her thumb. As the authority figure determined to break Jack Nicholson's countercultural free spirit, Louise Fletcher turned Ken Kesey's metaphor for conformity into a bona fide monster.—David Fear

Vince Stone, The Big Heat (1953)

Anyone who finds himself in the lovely arms of Gloria Grahame should probably consider himself a winner. Yet this coffee-flinging goon scalds her face, utterly turning the audience against him. It a wonder that Lee Marvin ever escaped the notoriety of this role—much less to become a likable hero in The Dirty Dozen.—Joshua Rothkopf

Tommy Udo, Kiss of Death (1947)

How twisted is Richard Widmark's perpetually grinning thug? This is a man who pushes an old woman in a wheelchair down a flight of stairs—and giggles as she plummets. Widmark's unique take on the mob-enforcer archetype earned him an Oscar nomination and singlehandedly created a template for every creepily childish psychopath that followed.—David Fear

The Evil Queen, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

Walt Disney's first feature introduced the Mouse House's first true villain. Who can forget her chilling "Mirror, mirror" freak-out or her hideous black-cloak--and-warts disguise (arm outstretched with the tempting poisoned apple)? You don't get Cruella de Vil or Scar without the Evil Queen's example.—Keith Uhlich

Anton Chigurh, No Country for Old Men (2007)

The bowl haircut was scary enough. Javier Bardem also had implacable cool and that purring croak of a voice: "What business is it of yours where I'm from...friendo?" Ultimately, this bounty hunter wins on sheer unstoppability, blowing holes in doorways and pursuing his prey with unswerving drive.—Joshua Rothkopf

Alex Forrest, Fatal Attraction (1987)

She's the ultimate NYC nightmare: an illicit fuckbuddy who goes nuclear on her married lover, his family and one unlucky bunny. Along with Tom Wolfe's The Bonfire of the Vanities, this movie fully encapsulated the dangers of smug, yuppie entitlement, and Glenn Close should have won her Oscar for it.—Joshua Rothkopf

John Doe, Seven (1995)

The bad guy stays in the shadows for most of David Fincher's exhilaratingly dark thriller, allowing his elaborate traps inspired by the seven deadly sins to work their gruesome magic. Then he shows up in the form of Kevin Spacey and is so eerily calm and rational about his crimes you want to scream.—Keith Uhlich

Max Cady, Cape Fear (1991)

Vengeance is mine, sayeth Robert De Niro's singleminded ex-con, and when it comes to collecting on that debt, this tattooed devil won't be denied. The violence he's capable of is shocking enough (that cheek bite!), but it's Cady's ability to inflict pain in subtler ways—like using young Juliette Lewis's loneliness as a seduction pressure point—that genuinely horrifies.—David Fear

"Angel Eyes," The Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966)

To be fair, none of the three title characters is especially upright in Sergio Leone's violent spaghetti Western. But you'd have to give the edge on evilness to Lee Van Cleef, just for that pointy nose and wicked sneer. He also shoots a bunch of people (including an innocent teenager) and commandeers a brutal prisoner-of-war camp.—Joshua Rothkopf

Hans Gruber, Die Hard (1988)

As Euro-accented monomaniacs go, you can hardly do better than Alan Rickman's ruthless antagonist in John McTiernan's '80s action classic. He sidles around the building he's robbing like he already owns the place, killing anyone who stands in his way and giving Bruce Willis's off-duty cop a run for his money.—Keith Uhlich

Little Bill Daggett, Unforgiven (1992)

Gene Hackman's unscrupulous sheriff rules his tiny town with an iron fist, beating down strangers and thundering over small infractions. (He doesn't know Clint Eastwood's about to ride in.) Adding memorable resonance is Hackman's undeniable charm, even when playing a baddie: He's a terrible carpenter and a wonderful joke-teller.—Joshua Rothkopf

Antonio Salieri, Amadeus (1984)

He's the dude who kills Mozart—how much more villainous can you get? F. Murray Abraham does an expert job transitioning from court-approved favorite to seething inferior, as royal attentions swivel to Tom Hulce's bratty golden boy. Never mind liberties taken with the facts; the movie arrives at a terrible truth concerning genius and envy.—Joshua Rothkopf

Phyllis Dietrichson, Double Indemnity (1944)

"There's a speed limit in this state," she says—not that Barbara Stanwyck's sensuous femme fatale actually gives a damn about such things. In Billy Wilder's great film noir, she seduces Fred MacMurray's insurance agent into killing her husband. And that's small potatoes next to the double-crossing shenanigans she has in store.—Keith Uhlich

Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, Full Metal Jacket (1987)

Boot camp turns men into marines—and R. Lee Ermey's gung-ho drill sergeant is the one responsible for making them killing machines. Stanley Kubrick gives his barking ball-buster the best lines, but don't let the inventive obscenities fool you: Hartman is the military's dehumanization process made manifest.—David Fear

Gollum, The Lord of the Rings trilogy (2001–03)

Forget Sauron, that giant spider and those butch-beastly Orcs; the most memorable (and ickiest) bad guy in Tolkien's epic saga is the feral, fallen creature willing to do anything to possess his preciousss. Credit Andy Serkis for adding a sympathetic element to this tortured soul, turning this cursed character into a truly tragic figure.—David Fear

Don Logan, Sexy Beast (2000)

The buildup to the character's entrance is nail-biting: All we know, as British ex-gangsters cavort in their luxurious Spanish retirement, is that Don Logan's coming with one last job. And when he shows up, it's Gandhi, for Pete's sake. But Ben Kingsley makes no mistake about who's in charge, as his furious invectives start to fly.—Joshua Rothkopf

Joan Crawford, Mommie Dearest (1981)

Faye Dunaway suffered permanent career damage for her noxious portrayal of screen icon Crawford and the star's abusive domination over her adopted daughter, Christina. Often lost in the discussion, though, is how endlessly quotable ("Bring me the axe!") and blindingly impassioned Dunaway's work was.—Joshua Rothkopf

Count Dracula, Dracula (1931)

"I never drink...wine," says Bela Lugosi in his immortal performance—which he originated onstage—while chomping on every pause and flick of the cape. It's a strange turn, casting a warp over the entire movie and singlehandedly creating goth-chic. All Hollywood horror movies basically owe a debt to this one.—Joshua Rothkopf

HAL 9000, 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

Stanley Kubrick's galaxy-traversing masterpiece gave us a bad guy for the ages in the artificially intelligent computer HAL 9000. It's the voice, by Douglas Rain, that chills the most: flat and affectless, with just a hint of superiority. There's no rage in this machine, just cold indifference.—Keith Uhlich

General Zod, Superman II (1980)

Terence Stamp is marvelously stern and sinister as the chief antagonist of this buoyant Man of Steel sequel. A Kryptonian criminal mastermind with superstrength and a hilariously condescending leer, he plans to take our hero out and make all Earthlings his slaves. With a performance this delicious, we'd kneel before Zod any day.—Keith Uhlich

Gordon Gekko, Wall Street (1987)

Equal parts seductive charm and cutthroat corporate Darwinism, Michael Douglas's iconic role turned a stock-market Master of the Universe into Satan in suspenders. Gekko's philosophy—"Greed...is good"—summed up the get-rich '80s to a tee; his idolization by a generation of white-collar alpha males suggests Douglas may have played this villain too well.—David Fear

Noah Cross, Chinatown (1974)

John Huston's decrepit patriarch could be mistaken for just another 20th-century opportunist hell-bent on owning "the future, Mr. Gittes!" Then you find out what's hiding behind that reptilian grin, and out comes his true self: Cross exemplifies not just free-market capitalism run amok but the bone-deep corruption of a nation built by evil men.—David Fear

Freddy Krueger, A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)

One, two, Freddy's coming for you.... Robert Englund's razor-fingered adversary wasn't always a wisecracking slasher: In his first appearance, he was a petrifying bogeyman who, with that ratty red sweater and fire-scarred face, made more of a searingly visual than verbal impression.—Keith Uhlich

Mrs. Iselin, The Manchurian Candidate (1962)

Angela Lansbury is scarily perfect in John Frankenheimer's Cold War classic as the senator's-wife-cum-communist-plant who uses hypnotic suggestion to make her sleeper-agent son carry out everything from breakups to assassinations. Don't believe that Queen of Diamonds getup she wears; there's nothing noble about this character.—Keith Uhlich

Auric Goldfinger, Goldfinger (1964)

"No, Mr. Bond...I expect you to die!": With all due respect to Ernst Blofeld, Rosa Klebb and Jaws, the Bond villain we most love to hate is the man with the Midas touch. Whether killing a traitorous cohort with gold paint or pointing a laser at Sean Connery's crotch, nobody threatened 007 with more panache than Gert Frbe's aurum-obsessed foe.—David Fear

The Terminator, The Terminator (1984)

He became something of a softie in the sequels, so we'll always prefer Arnold Schwarzenegger's relentless cyborg in James Cameron's lean, mean '80s action flick. He stalks his prey so mercilessly (innocents in the line of fire be damned) that you long to pull the plug yourself.—Keith Uhlich

Leatherface, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)

Here's what's often missed about this human-skin-wearing killer: He's a sad, lost little boy. Just look at him, nervous and shivering after he makes his kills, worrying about being beaten by his father for destroying the door, or getting teased by his brother. The character might have been based on Wisconsin's notorious Ed Gein, but director Tobe Hooper and actor Gunnar Hansen imbue him with a subtle sense of soul. (A legendary deleted scene has Leatherface sitting before the mirror, applying lipstick and rouge to a cracked, borrowed persona.) Of course, the monster is best known for his artistry with a chain saw: He's on our list for building huge buzz.—Joshua Rothkopf

Dr. Mabuse, Dr. Mabuse: The Gambler (1922)

No one is safe from this mesmeric master of disguise. Director Fritz Lang's silent serial casts the sinister-looking Rudolf Klein-Rogge as a criminal genius. He's a blight on Weimar Germany's wealthy populace, cheating at cards to finance his larcenous schemes and indulging in kidnapping and murder when it suits him. But he's also a direct result of the era's excesses, a malefactor twisting the reigning order to his own nefarious purposes. Lang would pointedly return to this diabolical character in two subsequent films—1933's The Testament of Dr. Mabuse and 1960's The 1,000 Eyes of Dr. Mabuse—that likewise placed him in counterpoint to charged historical moments.—Keith Uhlich

Norman Bates, Psycho (1960)

Some boys are close to their mothers; let's just say that Norman loves his mom not wisely but too well. Like our No. 10 villain, the character may be loosely based off of serial killer Ed Gein, according to the book's author Robert Bloch, but credit Anthony Perkins for making the gangly caretaker of the Bates Motel seem like he's simply a slightly off version of the boy next door, what with the oddball hobbies and awkwardness around Janet Leigh. All the better to fool viewers once it becomes apparent that Norman is—what's the phrase?—not himself some days. The original slasher-film villain remains a touchstone for using the banality of evil to make audiences loosen their bowels in fright. Not even a handy psychologist's wrap-up can explain away his monstrousness; Norman may not hurt a fly in the last scene, but that death's-head smile at the end suggests that he's far from cured.—David Fear

The Wicked Witch of the West, The Wizard of Oz (1939)

There's a puff of orange smoke, munchkins start screaming and scrambling over the yellow-brick road, and then she appears: a green-skinned hag with a black hat, a broom and a world-class cackle. Margaret Hamilton takes this Grimm's fairy-tale caricature to high-camp levels. (Just try imitating her "I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog, too" line without playing it to the rafters.) But she also turns this nemesis of Dorothy and her friends into a child's worst nightmare come to life, all grasping hands and gothic gloom. Whether she's lusting after her dead sister's ruby slippers or sending flying monkeys to nab our homeward-bound heroes, this witch wears wickedness like a badge of pride.—David Fear

Frank Booth, Blue Velvet (1986)

Lumberton, North Carolina's resident lunatic and No. 1 Roy Orbison fan is a nasty piece of work: a drug dealer and drug addict (what exactly does he keep huffing in that oxygen mask?), a kidnapper, a killer, and a sexual-deviant rapist with tons of Freudian issues. In Dennis Hopper's hands, this bad guy becomes every repressed violent and carnal urge shoved into human form with a leather jacket slapped on it. A star with no shortage of bad-behavior baggage, Hopper already brought a wild-card sense of danger to the role simply by showing up. But the way he infantilizes Frank ("Baby wants to fuck!") and plays up his rage makes the character's pathologies that much more frightening. This guy is pure id, a snarling beast lurking beneath the shiny facade of small-town Americana.—David Fear

Michael Myers, Halloween (1978)

"It was the boogeyman," whispers a shocked Jamie Lee Curtis, her ordeal seemingly over. But Michael Myers is both more—and, in a profound sense, less—in John Carpenter's mythic classic. As former TONY editor Jason Zinoman argues in his fun new horror study Shock Value, the character is a success for being completely hollowed of detail, all the better to project our own fears onto him. He's more ferocious than the shark in Jaws, more blank than a ghost. (The closing credits call him only "The Shape.") Conceptually, you can feel the impact of Michael Myers in everything from Javier Bardem's Oscar-winning killer in No Country for Old Men (see our No. 33) to Ryan Gosling's single-minded man-machine in Drive.—Joshua Rothkopf

Hannibal Lecter, The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

Anthony Hopkins wasn't the only actor to bring everybody's favorite flesh-eating doctor to life. (Let's give a hat tip to Brian Cox, whose portrayal in 1986's Manhunter came first.) But once the Welsh actor took on the role in The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal "The Cannibal" and Hopkins became inextricably linked; it's impossible to think of the gourmand serial killer without seeing those shining eyes or hearing that insinuating voice mentioning the eating of someone's liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti. From the first moment you see him in Lambs—calmly staring right at you as the camera tracks to his cell—the sense that this genius psychopath is the most dangerous person within a 300-mile radius is immediately apparent. And Hopkins wisely emphasizes Lecter's dominating intellect; this is a man who gets a rush rooting around in people's heads—when he's not eating their brains, that is.—David Fear

Frank, Once Upon a Time in the West (1968)

At first, heroic Hollywood icon Henry Fonda didn't want to take the villainous starring role in Sergio Leone's breathtaking spaghetti Western. It was only after the great Italian director insisted in person ("The camera tilts up to the gunman's face and...it's Henry Fonda!" Leone reportedly said) that the actor known mostly for playing relatable everymen took the leap. We're happy he did: From his first iconic scene, where he commits the unpardonable sin of shooting a child in cold blood, Fonda's smooth-shaven gunslinger chills with his unrepentant brutality. There's a world of hate behind those steely blue eyes, which Leone takes every chance to frame in his visionary extreme close-ups.—Keith Uhlich

Reverend Harry Powell, The Night of the Hunter (1955)

The mighty Robert Mitchum angered up for this masterly portrayal of evil in Charles Laughton's underseen American thriller. The character is a money-hungry predator, bent on recovering some stolen loot from the widow of a West Virginia robber. Charming his mark with phony righteousness, he woos and weds her—but two small children are on to him, and, fleeing home, they are pursued by a maniac. Mitchum's howl is as pure and uncut an expression of rage as the screen has delivered; he also coos the traditional hymn "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" in a way that unsettles just as much. Powell's unnerving knuckle tattoos—one for love, one for hate—were paid homage by Spike Lee in Do the Right Thing.—Joshua Rothkopf

Darth Vader, Star Wars (1977)

It says something that, even in light of the atrocious prequels and George Lucas's incessant tweaks to the first three films, we easily agreed our top villain had to be Star Wars' helmet-and-cloak-clad Sith lord. You know you're in the presence of someone legendary when the character emerges through laser-fire smoke in the beloved first movie; he's instantly mythic with his queasily mechanical breath and take-no-prisoners attitude. And it just gets better from there, as anyone who's ever swung a plastic lightsaber or intoned "I find your lack of faith disturbing" can tell you. Congratulations, Darth. You're the one who most makes us want to turn to the dark side.—Keith Uhlich

Vader has always been at the top of my list as best villains...far and away. But my #2 didn't make your list, Keyser Soze. Surprising too since "John Doe" is on your list...both played by Spacey, the films were released only weeks apart from each other.

I'm not saying this is not a good list. It is. But you must be mad not to include Daniel Day Lewis as Bill the Butcher in Gangs of New York. Also Heath Ledger as the Joker in the Dark Knight. Dead or alive it was very memorable. Not worthy of the Oscar that year (Robert Downey Jr. should have won), but one of the most memorable villains in the 21st century.

Wow! I can't believe you would leave out one of the greatest villains EVER seen on film - Rutger Hauer as John Ryder in The Hitcher!!! He plays on of the most chilling villains ever portrayed in film!!! Absolutely chilling!!!

I agree completely, Emperor Palpatine was truely evil, and way more powerful than Darth Vader. Darth Vader turned good in the end anyway. Many things were wrong with this list. For example, Colonel Kurtz was not exactly a villain, neither was the drill sergeant from full metal jacket. The joker is missing, Hal 9000 is too low in my opinion, and even though Alex de large from Clockwork Orange was not exactly a villain either, he should go on this list based on how the list is written.

@Spectrobes Princess, I don't recognize all of them either, but seriously, it's kind of sad if you don't know Angel Eyes (The Good, The Bad and the Ugly), Goldfinger (James Bond!) and Mrs Danvers (Rebecca, Hitchcock, come on!) at the very least...And Freddy Krueguer, Dracula and Hannibal Lecter are definetely not geeky/nerdy...Last but not least, if Darth Vader doesnt ring any bells you have lived a sad, sad life, my friend...

I only reconized, like, 6 of them (The Evil Queen from Snow White, Gollum from Lord of the Rings, Voldemort from Harry Potter, The Wicked Witch of the West from Wizzard of Oz, and Cobra from Karate Kid) I guess I'm not as big of a geek/nerd as I thought I was! I'm a little surprised that King Haggard wasn't on this list...he was a little creepy (but not REALLY creepy.....he was obsessed with unicorns for cryin' out loud!)

Everyone complaining about The Joker not being on the top 50 list needs to calm down and realize The Dark Knight only came out 5 years ago. Give it another 5-10 years and we'll see if Ledger's portrayal was as memorable as this generation claims it is.

i guess they wanted to make a doublepost for the Joker (1989/2008) as first place.
But you know bugs are everywhere and most times about 50cm in front of the screen^^
but worst "villain" is Sarah Connor. Or you forget the moment where the Terminator (the star role) get squashed and he not could kill her?
I really had to weep about this tragic end.

Really was hoping Martha (Elizabeth Taylor) from "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" would've been hiding in the bushes at around 28-ish. Cerebral and acid-tongued, she's a devious destroyer of mental faculties, a perfect outer manifestation of inner turmoil.
"You make all sorts of excuses. Maybe tomorrow you'll be dead. Maybe tomorrow He'll be dead. All sorts of excuses."